Эдвин Грей - Diving Stations

Chen Yu compressed his lips defiantly and the rifle butt descended for a second time. The Chinaman’s body lifted in a rigid arch and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. An eternity of pain passed in a fraction of a second before he fainted. Aritsu straightened up. He took no pleasure from the torture. It was a barbaric necessity. He turned away slowly.

Wan Fu saw the movements and knew it was his turn next. Pushing the guards aside he leapt for the poop rail, swayed uncertainly for a moment, and threw himself into the sea. Sub-Lieutenant Mihoro reached the side almost before the Chinese seaman hit the water and, dragging a revolver from the holster at his hip, he took careful aim and continued firing until the chamber was empty. By the time Aritsu arrived at the rails, Wan Fu’s lifeless body was floating face-downwards in the blood-stained sea.

‘A pity,’ he commented blandly. ‘He would have been useful. You must learn the art of self-discipline, SubLieutenant. You Koreans can only think of killing.’ Mihoro flushed angrily. The torture of Chen Yu had stirred a primitive evil in his subconscious◦– a latent sadism inherited from his Mongol ancestors which had remained dormant for many generations. He considered Commander Aritsu, like most professional Japanese naval officers, was too soft.

‘We still have one more prisoner, sir,’ he reminded the senior officer. ‘Why not leave that one to me?’

Aritsu felt sickened by the brutality he had already ordered, but he did not allow his revulsion to deter him from what he saw to be his duty to the Emperor. And much as he wanted to wash his hands of the whole filthy matter, he felt a certain reluctance to give the sadistic Korean officer a free hand. He watched Wan Fu’s body drift slowly astern while he decided what to do. Then, turning away from the rail, he walked back to the well-deck amidships.

Ignoring Mihoro’s offer he looked at Kino and nodded. ‘Bring the other prisoner to me, Petty Officer. I will continue the interrogation.’

As the men of the boarding party advanced towards the stern the surviving Chinese seamen made a wild dash for the side, but this time the guards were on the alert. Two of them moved to cut off his line of escape while the third reached out and his strong hand twisted in the prisoner’s hair. He pulled hard and an unmistakable feminine scream of protest rang out. Two more guards closed in quickly, seized the woman’s arms and hauled her bodily down the wooden steps of the poop, as she fought and struggled to escape.

Mihoro stepped forward as they dragged her before Aritsu. Without waiting for permission he grasped the prisoner’s sweat-soiled cotton shirt and ripped it off with a savage jerk. He looked at the smooth flawless body and saw the small high breasts tipped with dark nipples. His eyes glistened cruelly and the tip of his tongue passed across his upper lip in anticipation.

‘The top half seems to be a woman, sir,’ he leered at the grinning sailors. His hands fumbled at the cord holding up the baggy cotton trousers. It came undone and he watched them slide down to her ankles. ‘And the bottom half undoubtedly is as well.’ He stepped back to admire the view.

‘That is enough, Sub-Lieutenant!’ Aritsu snapped sharply. ‘You are an officer◦– not an animal. Control yourself.’ The commander stepped closer to the prisoner. There was something familiar about the girl. He stared at Chai Chen who rewarded his interest by spitting in his face. Mihoro lunged forward and struck her across the cheek with his clenched fist, but Aritsu pushed him away with an angry gesture.

Suma’s captain seemed flustered by the insult. He wiped his cheek with a handkerchief. ‘Yes… of course. Your step-father is Dominguez Alburra. That would account for the De Gama Oil Company’s name on the barrels.’

Ignoring the dictates of modesty, Chai Chen wriggled like an eel to break free from her captors; but the guards merely tightened their grip on her arms and her naked body arched with pain. ‘You go to hell, pig!’ she hissed at him.

Aritsu accepted the epithet with a smile as the girl’s identity triggered his memory. The Japanese Intelligence Agency in Macao had kept him well-informed and very little escaped their notice.

‘But, of course… Lieutenant Hamilton.’ He did not miss the momentary flicker of fear on the girl’s face as she heard the name. ‘He saved your life when your launch was bombed. And, as I understand it, he has been a constant visitor to your step-father’s home.’ Aritsu paused, to give Chai Chen time to digest the fact that he knew rather more about her activities than she might have expected. ‘That is why you are carrying diesel oil◦– to refuel the English submarine !’

Chai Chen knew it was useless to lie. She shivered and, as if suddenly conscious of her nakedness, squeezed her thighs together as she saw the sailors looking at her body. Lowering her head, she stared down at the deck.

Mihoro’s impatience exploded with a savage snarl. Before Aritsu could stop him, the sub-lieutenant stepped forward and, motioning the guards to hold her securely, he raked his clawed hands along the girl’s rigid body. Chai Chen endured the indignity in silence until the probing fingers found a new and more subtle way to hurt her, and the Korean smirked with complacent satisfaction as he heard her soft whimper of disgust.

1Leave her alone, Sub-Lieutenant!’

Mihoro retreated reluctantly. The expression on his face was like that of a child deprived of its favourite toy. He stared at his erstwhile victim and his eyes glittered at the memory as he saw the ugly marks left by his fingers. Aritsu swallowed back his anger, regained his composure, and steeled himself for the distasteful task that lay ahead.

‘It is useless to resist,’ he told Chai Chen quietly. ‘Nothing can save the English submarine. If you tell me the rendezvous position I might be able to persuade Lieutenant Hamilton to surrender. There is no other way in which his life can be saved. But I am powerless to help him unless I know where the refuelling is to take place.’ Chai Chen continued to stare at the deck and Aritsu made one last despairing effort to persuade her. ‘If you continue to remain silent I will be forced to hand you over to the Sub-Lieutenant. And if I do, you will undoubtedly suffer a great deal of unnecessary pain. Make no mistake about it◦– your obstinacy will be broken in the end and you will tell me everything I want to know. Why not be sensible?’ Chai Chen raised her head slowly. She stared at Aritsu as if judging the sincerity of his offer and then glanced at Mihoro. She turned away with a shiver as she read the cruelty in the Korean’s face.

‘I know nothing,’ she said simply.

Aritsu closed his eyes for a brief moment as if suffering a spasm of physical pain. Then, with a stiffly formal bow, he walked to the side where the motorboat was waiting to take him back to Suma. Mihoro followed him like a dog eager to be loosed in search of a rabbit.

‘You may proceed with the interrogation of the prisoner, Sub-Lieutenant,’ he instructed the Korean. ‘Report to me when you have obtained the information. You have precisely thirty minutes to achieve your object.’

Aritsu acknowledged Mihoro’s salute and climbed down into the motorboat. Settling himself in the stern, he placed his fingertips together in an attitude of prayer and tried to come to terms with his conscience, as the launch reversed away from the junk and turned its bows in the direction of the waiting destroyer. The commander sat in contemplative silence for several minutes and then, as if forcing himself to perform an act of penance for his sins, he turned his head and stared back at the junk.

He could not see what Mihoro was doing, but Chai Chen was already tied spread-eagled and naked against the side of the deckhouse and the steel blade of the bayonet which the Korean was holding in his right hand glistened in the sun. Aritsu shuddered as her first screams echoed across the water.